


A Match Made in a Trash Can

by DryerLynnt



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Piers Meets a Zigzagoon That Will Later Be His Obstagoon, Piers' Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24620722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryerLynnt/pseuds/DryerLynnt
Summary: A seven year old Piers meets his very first pokemon.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	A Match Made in a Trash Can

Empty cans fell out of the bin with a clang. The 7 year old flinched at the noise, realizing that he should have checked sooner. Hoisting the bag out of the bin, he crept towards the door as quietly as possible. His father sat like a fat, lazy guard dog at the couch, his platinum white locks covering his eyes. Piers hopes he’s asleep, but he can’t tell.

The man twitched, then pointed his disheveled face towards Piers. “’S ‘bout time,” he slurs. Piers sights with relief when he notices he’s drunk. “’s been pilin’ up there, boy.”

Piers stiffened and nodded. “Sorry, sir,” he mutters quickly, shuffling out the door before he had to say anything else. He dragged the bloated bag to the side of the house, no, shelter. His home hardly qualified as a building, let alone a house. The dumpster was actually the nearby café’s. He slept in a slightly larger closet.

He sighs tiredly as he heaves the bag onto his shoulder. It was so heavy, and the lip of the dumpster was so high up. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to throw it that far. He took a deep breath, thinking for just a moment. Then he takes a step forward and slung the bag as hard as his 7 year old, malnourished body could manage. It lands heavily on the edge, sagging over both sides as it teetered. Piers gasps in hope as it leans inward slightly farther than normal. Suddenly, it jerked the other way, falling to Piers’ feet with the sickening sound of shattering beer bottles. Confused, Piers lifted the bag with both hands, careful to avoid the sharp points of the glass.

He used both arms as leverage for his next attempt, but gets the same result. He glances around, trying to find something to use to push the bag in. His thoughts were interrupted by the bag tumbling out again, reproducing the noises of shattering glass. Piers was sure his parents were getting impatient. He had to finish this quickly.

Annoyed, Piers tried to see over the lip of the dumpster. He tried to map out a new plan, maybe a stack of boxes he could climb, or- His scheming was stopped by a black and white snout that appeared over the edge.

Piers was startled by the sudden visitor. He froze and watched it carefully. Was this Pokémon the reason he couldn’t get the bag in the bin? He couldn’t see much of the Pokémon, but he did catch a glimpse of a sharp toothed grin. It definitely knew what it was doing. Frustrated, Piers dropped the bag with a sigh.

“Oi, Pokémon!” he called, unable to tell what it could be. “I need t’ get this rubbish thrown out, so get out o’ tha’ dumpster!”

The Pokémon gave a growl of understanding, and it leapt from the lip of the dumpster to the toes of the child’s shoes. It looked up at him with disinterest, as though it expected compensation. Piers didn’t yield. How could he when this Pokémon was so cute? It was the cutest creature Piers had ever seen in his short life. It was a Zigzagoon, unmistakable with those stripes so similar to Piers’ own hair. This Pokémon simply spoke volumes to him with those knowing eyes. Big, sparkly and pink. Not to mention that shiny little nose that would put even a Skitty to shame. Yes, Piers was absolutely enthralled with this little thing.

Without thinking, he offered an open palm to it. The Zigzagoon settled for sitting on it’s hind legs. It bumped its head into his hand, as if asking to be pet. Piers slid his hand down its bristly fur, feeling it glide against his palm harmlessly. He couldn’t stifle a laugh as he curled his fingers, sating the Ziggy’s hunger for scratches.

Piers snapped out of his enchantment with the little creature, realizing that he had already taken far longer than he should have. He shooed the Pokémon, but it didn’t move. Instead, Piers stepped out of the way to hoist the bag onto his shoulder once again. Carefully, he hurled the bag. And yet again, it landed on the very edge. The time, the Zigzagoon climbed the side of the dumpster and nudged the bag in with its snout. It fell into the dumpster with a crash, and the Zigzagoon settled once again at Piers’ side.  
The Ziggy wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The young boy was fascinated with the small thing. Zigzagoons tend to be aggressive, but this one was so cute and sweet. It would be a big risk, but Piers couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least ask his father to catch it for him.

“Would ya want t’ be m’ first Pokémon, mate?” Piers queried fondly. It hopped around him happily, confirming its answer. A smile tugged at Piers’ face. “Let me go ask m’ father if ‘e’ll catch ya fer me.”

As if on instinct, Piers lifted the Pokémon into his arms, carrying it around to the front of his home. Piers made to walk through the door, but hesitated. After reconsidering, he places the Zigzagoon on the ground by his feet.

“Ya gotta wait ‘ere. I can’t bring ya inside until yer caught,” Piers told it. It seemed to understand, so he hoped it would be waiting when he got back. He glanced over his shoulder as he passed through the doorway, locking eyes with the Zigzagoon waiting for him for a moment.

Piers took several deep breaths, trying to stay calm as he replaced the garbage bad. He could sense his father’s unfocused eyes on the back of his skull. He hadn’t moved while he was out.

“What took ya so long?” he slurred, irritated, but not irate. He’s drunk, Piers reminded himself. Thank Arceus.

“Th-there was a Pokémon in th’ dumpster, sir,” Piers replied, avoiding eye contact. His throat suddenly felt dry. “It kept pushin’ th’ bag out until it came out.”

“Sounds like a Zigzagoon t’ me,” the older man dismissed. “’s unusual, though. They don’t come t’ these parts anymore.”

“Why not, sir?” Piers braved a question, hoping to get the conversation to a point where he can ask. He tensed his muscled in preparation.

“Don’t ya know anythin’?” The man accused, pointing a finger at the child. “Zigzagoons don’t like people. They only come near ‘em when they wanna be their Pokémon. Big waste o’ time, though. Only useful when they evolve anyway.”

“W-well, sir…” Piers hesitated. He struggled to find the words, but he had to say it. “It followed me back, an’ I was hopin’ ya could catch it fer me, please?”

Silence followed. Piers kept his gaze on the ground, listening to his father’s breathing. He hoped he could anticipate if something would be thrown. His father shattered the silence with a deep, slurred voice.

“Ya wanna waste you time wit’ such a worthless Pokémon? Fine,” he grumbled. The couch groaned as he hoisted himself to his feet. “I’ll get m’ Pokémon. Where is it?”

Piers narrowly avoided crying out in joy. Finally, he would get a Pokémon of his own. And such a charming little one, too. He waited for his father in the doorway, his foot tapping in anticipation. He did his best to appear calm as he led him out to where his soon to be companion was waiting. The Zigzagoon was busy watching people walk by, but it perked its ears and turned to see them. Sitting on its hind legs, it grinned and made a pleased noise. Piers was thrilled.

Stumbling and groaning, Piers’ father released an Ekans to face against the wild Zig. A Pokémon can only be caught in a battle, so only a trainer can give someone their first Pokémon. Though Piers’ father hardly qualified as a trainer anymore.

Piers was sure the Zigzagoon would go willingly into a pokeball, but his father didn’t throw one. Instead, his father commanded Ekans to poison the poor thing. Trust was fading, and Zigzagoon looked to Piers for his help. It wanted to be obedient and be caught, but it snarled back as the Ekans approached for another attack.

“Please, sir, just catch ‘im,” Piers begged, tempted to grab his father’s sleeve. He worried that either the Zigzagoon would faint or run.

“Ya don’t know nothin’,” his father accused. “Ya gotta weaken ‘em ‘fore ya can catch ‘im, get it?”

“He wants t’ be caught! Just throw a pokeball, please!” Piers pleaded. He couldn’t stand to see the poor little Zigzagoon being tormented. “He won’t break out.”

Huffing in annoyance, his father tossed a dusk ball haphazardly. The Zigzagoon was eager to be captured in it, and the ball fell to the ground. Piers picked it up cautiously. It rocked once in a moment of uncertainty, but it clicked shut, securing the catch. Piers was filled with joy as he took in what he was holding in his hands. His very own Pokémon.

“Don’t say I never did anythin’ for ya,” Piers’ father interrupted, shoving past his son to go inside. “It’s poisoned. Take it t’ the pokecenter if ya don’ want it t’ faint. Just know ya mum’s not gonna be happy ‘bout this.”

Piers nods and mumbles a quick “thank ya, sir.” He bolted down the darkened streets, doing his best to take every turn and remember his path. The pokecenter sat at the other end of Spikemuth. It couldn’t have been farther, even though the town was small. Piers feared that he wouldn’t make it there before his new Pokémon fainted. That would certainly put a damper on their relationship.

“Don’ worry, I’m gonna help ya,” Piers murmured into the pokeball as he skidded around the corner. He was faced with the beaming red lights of the building. He tried to look calm as he slipped through the automatic doorway, shyly approaching the desk. He didn’t now what he was supposed to do, as he’d never been inside a pokecenter before.

“Hello, my dear, how may I help you?” The nurse looked down at him. Perhaps it was his own anxiety, but she seemed to be giving him an off look.

“U-um, can ya heal m’ Pokémon please?” he asked, trying to sound professional. Still, his voice caught in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Yes, of course, let me see your Pokémon for a moment,” she responded with utmost professionalism. He held her hand out, palm upward.

Piers hesitated. He didn’t want to part with his new partner so soon. She looked at him expectantly, so he willed himself to surrender the pokeball. It jostled as the Zigzagoon writhed within it, either because of the poison or because it sensed it was parting with its new trainer. Piers let go as quickly, before he wouldn’t be able to again. A few flashes and a pleasant jingle later, the pokeball was returned. Piers left with shiver down his spine. Why would she say she hoped to see him again?

Piers ran home, full of excitement. He’d lock himself in his “room” for a few hours and bond with his new Pokémon. He calmed himself as he stepped through the door, greeted by the sight of his parents fighting again. They snapped their heads to glare at Piers as he entered. He clutched the pokeball close to his chest, full of fear.

His mother sighed, brushing her jet black hair back. “I can’t believe you got him that rodent,” she muttered angrily to her husband. She turned to address her son. “Why would you want such a filthy Pokémon?”

“I thought he was cute, ma’am. And he wanted to come with me,” Piers mumbled, his grasp tightening on the pokeball. “May I go to my room now?”

His mother snarled, giving him a disgusted look, but then waved him off anyway to continue her argument. Piers does his best not to look back at the fighting as he makes his way to his room. After the door was closed and locked, he sat on his mattress on the floor. Clicking the button on his Pokémon, the Zigzagoon emerged with a cautious, yet happy noise. Piers smiled as his ran his head down its head and spine. It purred in joy, soaking in the affection.

It chirped happily as it bounced around him. Piers took note of its playfulness. He remembered once haring that Zigzagoons loved to battle. With this in mind, a bold idea came to him.

“I should become a trainer.”


End file.
